Son and Heir!
“Thou art no longer a bondservant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.” — Gal. iv. 7.
“Son” and “heir “! So that is how our position and prospects are described! “Son and heir!” Would the world recognise our status when it looks upon us? I do not refer to such seasons as the time of a great convention, when our festive feelings are excited, and we move about with a certain gaiety of demeanour, and with buoyant and exuberant strides. In our festive moments we may have the royal carriage of sons and heirs, and we may be distinguished from the depressed and heavy-footed multitude. But how do we appear when the festivities are over, when the trumpet is silent, and the shouting dies, and the banners and the bunting are taken down, and the holiday attire is put away in the drawer, and we are back again on the old grey road, in the dusty workshop, in the monotonous office, behind the irritating counter, in the familiar drudgery of the humming school? How, then, when the world looks rn upon us, and finds us in our everyday clothes, and when we are moving not to the martial music of a band, but to the click of a remorseless machine, do we appear like sons and heirs of God Almighty? Are there any signs about us of aristocratic breeding?
Do we betray the presence of royal blood? Is there something in our demeanour, subtle, impressive, influential, something which our clothes can never hide, and which abides through the gleaming hour of festivity, and through the long, grey stretch of the commonplace years? If we are of true blood, “blue blood,” of royal lineage, “born... not of the will of man, but of God,’’ there must be something about us emphatic and unique, which will fill the world with wonder. If we are “sons and heirs,’’ the unbelieving world will remark upon the quality of our breeding, and upon the variety and fulness of our wealth. Men will whisper to one another about our most palpable acquisitions, and our most evident emancipation. They will speak in this wise: They are no longer bondservants, moving about their ways with the feverish and restless timidity of a slave; they have something of the strong and lordly mien of the owner of the estate!” Is this the judgment of the world upon you and me? Do we reveal “blue blood,” the Lord’s aristocracy, or is there nothing about us to occasion notice or remark? Are we so at one with the colour and movement of the common crowd? Again I ask — is there anything kingly or queenly about our very walk and conversation? If we have the consciousness of sons and heirs, that consciousness will get into our faces, on to our lips, into our courtesies, into our handgrips, and there will be royal significance in all the issues of our life. But perhaps the consciousness is not present and regnant in our lives. Perhaps we are Christians who have not yet claimed or even recognised our kingdom. PerhajDS we are moving about in depression and poverty, and our vast inheritance lies untrodden and unexplored. Perhaps we are hugging the title-deeds, and we have never realised the unspeakable value of our land. Perhaps we have sat down on the inside of the gate, like a waiting slave, and we are not striding over the estate like the ‘’ son and heir.’’ “Thou art no longer a bondservant but a son: and if a son, then an heir! ‘’ To some it has been said, in words of awful disillusionment, Thou knowest not that thou art poor! ‘’ To others there may be equal need of the awaking and inspiring evangel,” Thou knowest not that thou art rich! “” Lift up now thine eyes, and look from the place where thou art, northward, and southward, and eastward, and westward: for all the land which thou seest to thee will I give it.... Arise, walk through the land in the length of it and in the breadth of it: for I will give it unto thee.” Thou art the son and heir. I wonder where our impoverishment begins. Perhaps it begins in an imperfect sense of sonship, which leads to an imperfect realisation of our inheritance. Let the one be starved, and the other will be impoverished. Exalt the one, and you will enlarge the other. What think you, then, of sonship? What are its primary characteristics? Can we open this casket, and inspect a few of its shining jewels? .What shall we mention as the first of the ingredients in heavenly sonship? Will yon be astonished if I begin with Reverence? That may appear to be a very grey element, but it is the groundwork of all the rest. There can be no true sonship when there is flippancy at the core of the life. At the very centre of the life there must be a little chapel, serene and untroubled, where the wings are quietly folded and the soul is prostrate in ceaseless adoration. In the great chapter which tells the story of a prophet’s call and ordination, the seraphim are described as creatures with six wings;” with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.’’ I think we can claim kinship with the seraphim in that we are in possession of the pair of
wings with which to fly! Never were Christian people more busy in flying about than they are to-day! I have said more than once that our popular vocabulary reeks with perspiration! We are for ever on the move, and busy doing this and doing that from morning until night. But I am not quite sure whether we could claim kinship with the seraphim in respect to the other wings. I think we are gravely lacking in those folded wings which suggest an amazed sense of the Highest, and which betoken reverence, awe, silence, and reserve. Reverence never hinders service — it enriches and perfects it. Perhaps if we had the folding, covering wings our very flying would have more serviceable results. Service which is devoid of reverence ever tends to run to superficial waste. If life has no holy of holies, then the whole of life is apt to become a mere shop, the sphere of common barter, or an entertainment house, the domain of flippant pleasures, or an open refreshment room, the place of a carnal feast. And so I want to plead that our sonship be enriched by the cultivation of a deeper and more constant reverence. In this matter I am afraid that we Protestants are inferior to our brethren in the Roman Catholic communion. I think their religious life is more deeply marked by reverence and awe. It is frequently suggested that such reverence is only a matter of posture, an empty formality, a marrowless rite. I will not have the interpretation. I am considering a true and representative Roman Catholic, and I say that he has much to teach us in the matter of worthy and fruitful reverence. Go into a Roman Catholic church. Everywhere there are suggestions of the august and unspeakable. Every symbol is an entrance gate into a vista which awes the soul into adoration. Tokens and memorials of the Crucified are everyr^here. The cross is ubiquitous. The worshipper bows low with an awed and silent wonder. The soul is reverently silent, and the body fashions itself to the mood of the spirit. But it is more than that: the posture of the body confirms the mood of the spirit. Perhaps we are not sufficiently attentive to these helpmeets to spiritual disposition. A bodily attitude does more than express a sentiment, it helps to create and foster it. It is even so with a common courtesy; the raising of the hat enriches the regards of the spirit. And so is it in reverence to the Highest. A bodily attitude will minister to the posture of the soul. Even our Lord did not despise the bodily helpmeet, and when He communed with His Eather He ^’ fell on His knees.” I urge that a little more care be given to this. There is a way of kneeling which is itself the beginning of prayer. Does this all seem rather sombre and gloomy, savouring more of the bondservant than the son, more of the cloister than the home? Ah! but I would wish to bring something of the cloister into the home, and the home itself will be lightened and transfigured. Let nobody think that true reverence makes for gloom and insipidity, and that it robs life of its buoyancy and freshness. Henry Drummond once went out alone into the high Alps. He was there in the early morning. The stupendous heights encompassed him on every side. He was awed by their majesty. His soul was bowed in reverent worship. And then what happened? He broke out into loud and exuberant laughter! The succession was not accidental, it was the fruit of a hidden root. The man who begins with the reverent recognition of the holiness and majesty of God will rise into a buoyancy of spirit in which all the merry-making powers will have free course to be glorified. Our Lord’s Prayer teaches us that before we can pass into the gracious liberty of forgiveness and conquest we must begin with the awed and reverent stoop: ‘^ Our Eather, which art in heaven, hallowed he Thy name,”
In the heart of a laughing, exuberant and healthy sonship there is a quiet and retired retreat where the incense of adoration rises both night and day.
Isow look again into the casket of this wealthy and comprehensive sonship. Here is the second jewel which I would like to display to you. Surely one of the primary elements in sonship is the privilege of intimate communion with the Father. I was one of a party who visited Chatsworth the other day. We were allowed the privilege of going through the noble house. But our liberties were severely restricted. We were allowed to pass rapidly through what is called “the show rooms/^ but we were rigidly excluded from the ^’ living room.” In many places there were red cords stretched across inviting passages, and our progress was barred. If I had been a son of the house I could have passed into the living rooms, the place of sweet and sacred fellowships, the home of genial intercourse, where secrets pass from lip to lip, and unspoken sentiments radiate from heart to heart. “Thou art no longer a bondservant, but a son! “Then I, too, am privileged to enjoy the fellowships of the living rooms, and no barrier blocks my way to the secret place. As a son I, too, am permitted to enter into a gracious intimacy with my God. I can indulge in confidences and share in the mutual secrets of the human and the Divine. Some time ago I heard an admiring father give a very rich and happy testimony to the relationship which existed between him and his son. He said ‘’ He is my son and my friend! ‘^ Is not that almost the Scriptural phrase, which embodies the noblest title conferred upon man, and which the Almighty used to describe His relation to one of His own children,” Abraham, my friend ‘’? And is it not the wonderful heritage described to us by Jesus Christ our Saviour, “No longer do I call you servants but friends, for all things that I have heard from My Father I have made known unto you.” Such is the rare and secret intimacy to which we are invited by our Lord. Have we seized upon this privilege of sonship? Are we with the undiscriminated crowd in the “show rooms “; or are we abiding with the Father in the living room? Are we enjoying an intimacy with the Lord, or have we only a kind of outside communion? Do we share all our secrets with the Lord and do we listen to the whispered secrets from His lips? Is there the abolition of all unnecessary reserve, and in all things do we take our Lord into our confidence? I have heard a business man say that when he goes down to his office in the morning, and before he opens his letters — nay, even with the unopened letters spread out before him — he “has a word with the Father! ‘^ Has not the biography of Mr. Gladstone revealed to us that he, too, had a similar way of sharing the intimate secrets of his life with the Lord? He had” a word with his Father ‘’ before he rose to speak in the House of Commons. He entered into the secret place before he appealed to the public eye. He consulted with the Almighty before he formed his cabinets. Such constant communion soon deepens into a wonderful intimacy. The restricting reserve passes out of the life. The unnecessary shyness wears away. The soul and the Father are one.
And 80 we may regard it as a very prominent characteristic of sonship that it is endowed with large and wealthy liberty. But sonship is not only distinguished by liberty of communion in the secret place, but by an emancipation from many kinds of bondage and restriction with which the world is burdened and oppressed. Sonship is conspicuously and radiantly free. The sons of God ought to fascinate and win the world by the range and grandeur of their freedom. Where others are bound they must reveal themselves to be free. Is our freedom obtrusively prominent? Are we revelling “in the glorious liberty of the children of God “? The real son is free from the bondage of sin. His life is delivered from the haunting wail of sunless and hopeless dejection. The real son is free from the tyranny of self. He is not imprisoned by a small, exclusive, all-absorbing, egoistic, enslaving self. He has ‘’ a heart at leisure from itself to soothe and sympathise.’’ The real son is free from the enslavement of the crowd. He is not daunted by the presence of the great and threatening multitude. God’s sons are free and bold and stand alone!
“They are slaves who dare not be
In the right with two or three.”
Slaves indeed! ‘’ But now thou art no longer a bondservant, but a son,” and because a son thou art free to defy the crowd and be alone! One with God is in the majority. And the real son is free from the fear of death. His life moves on, not to expected defeat but to ultimate triumph. The approaching shadow does not mark a terminus, but a point of transition into the larger and immortal life. In all these ways the son of the Almighty is “called unto liberty.’’ Such is sonship, marked by reverence, distinguished by intimacy, and glorious in its liberty. By our lives do we placard this sonship before our fellows? By our very manner of life does this sonship flame before the world? Do we move about like those who constantly realise the Presence of the Infinite? Is every spot a piece of holy ground? Are we sharing confidences with the Father? Has the burden of the oppressor been loosed from our backs, and are we standing erect in joyful freedom? Then are we sons, and sons indeed!” Now thou art ... a son! “‘’ Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us that we should be called the sons of God.”
‘’ And if a son then an heir.” We are not disinherited or disowned. The recovery of our sonship is accompanied by the restoration of our lost lands. The coming to God is the regaining of our estate. We are not only sons, but heirs. And our estates are not all beyond the river we call death. That is where we make an impoverishing mistake. We are not only heirs of “great expectations” but of great possessions. Superlatively rich are our expectations, but we have more than a competency by the way. Devonshire is a peculiarly rich and fruitful county, but it overflows into Somersetshire, and we are in the enjoyment of some of the glory before we reach the coveted spot. And so it is of heaven and ultimate glory.
“There is a land of pure delight.
Where saints immortal reign.
Infinite day excludes the night.
And pleasures banish pain.”
But the glory overflows! There is something of the coveted country even in the highway of time.
*’The hill of Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets.
Before we reach the heavenly fields
Or walk the golden streets.”
Expectancy? Yes. But again let me say we have a foretaste on the road. Do we look like it? Is our stride significant of men who have entered upon a large estate? Do we ever compel the alien world to say of us, ‘’ They look as though they were very well off! ‘’ That is the witness we ought to compel, and if our eyes were open, and our hearts were active, we should hear the witness on every side. Look at this: “Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.” There is an inheritance for the sons of God, and surely an inheritance vast enough! Are we in possession of the estate? We may not own a square yard and yet the earth may be ours. Think of Jesus as He moved about in the ways of Galilee. Not a square foot could He call His own. But those snowy heights in the far north, those green hillsides at home, those juicy vineyards, those fair lilies, those busy birds, that cool river, the ever-changing lake — they were all His! In His meekness He had “inherited the earth.” Are we in possession of the estate? “Having nothing,” we may yet ‘^ possess all things “! How is it, for instance, with the night sky? Have we any sense of sonship as we gaze upon it, and do we regard it as a part of our inheritance? When we contemplate some spacious panorama from an Alpine height, or from the hills of our own neighbourhood, do we thrill in the joy of possession, in the privileged sharing in the sonship of our God? We are sons and heirs, and all the real beauty and the glory of the earth belong to those who are the friends and companions of the Lord.
And here is another portion of our estate. Let us listen, as Paul in one sentence defines it. “Ye are my joy and crown.” Where was he gathering those delights? He had found them in other people’s well-being, in the triumph of his fellow-men. He had discovered the well of unpolluted joy in another man’s success. Have we found it? It is to be found in our estate. “With joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation.” Some of these wells are in your brother, you must find them in his conquests and in his rewards. “All things are yours.” Have we realised our inheritance? Let us lift the thought still higher. Let us lift our heirship up into the light of the burning bliss. We are “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ! “That is wonderful and overwhelming! We are heirs to the Lord’s inheritance; His possessions are ours; we may sit with Him in the heavenly places. We may inherit His strength, His joy, His peace, His triumph. We are joint heirs with Him in all the spiritual satisfactions that came to Him as He dwelt in the ways of men. And what did He inherit in the land of glory?” Xor pen nor tongue can tell.” ^’ Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him.” And we are the joint-heirs to it all! Have we begun even to entertain these great realities in our consciousness? We are the sons and heirs; are we worthy of the name? Would the world know it? Let us enter into a deeper consecration. Let us seek a closer sonship. Let us enter a little further into our estate. Let us move about with an exalted and hallowed and confident spirit, as those who are heirs to the promises, and who even now have inherited everlasting life.